


Dreamember

by Subtle_Shenanigans



Category: My Hero Academia, Original Work, Over the Garden Wall, Subnautica - Fandom, The Secret Saturdays, To Be Determined - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, Warriors, multi - Fandom
Genre: Dreamember 2018, Dreams, First Dreamember, Friendship, Gen, Introduction chapter, Narrative, Others to be added - Freeform, The Dreamer is a name you should remember from Goretober, Winter, atmosphere, definite confusion, dreamy, minor self insert, month long writing challenge, possible angst, probably fluff, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-02 23:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 7,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16796521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subtle_Shenanigans/pseuds/Subtle_Shenanigans
Summary: A full month of short drabbles, just for you guys!Original notes/concept: “The point is to be atmospheric. Dialogue is encouraged, of course, but suggested to be more minimal. The piece(s) should be dreamy, cozy, and/or immersive - focus on what's going on around the character(s)/people, the experience. (COLDTV - Antarctica and Abandoned Stations, which are songs from the OLDTV OST, is what inspired this whole concept XD.)”This is open to all!1.Liquid stars2.Hazey3.Warm4.Cool ((temperature))5.Echos6.Somber7.Flowers8.Cyan9.Lapping waves10.Dream(y)11.Muffled12.Drowsy13.Cozy14.Thunderstorm15.Mist/Breath16.Soft17.Blankets18.Snowflakes19.Frosted glass (drawing on)20.Mug ((hot drink(s) ))21.Another world22.Miasma23.Chimes24.Hollow25.Elusive26.Wisps27.Fog28.Rainstorm29.Early morning30.The Golden Hour31.Quiet





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who’s back?!
> 
> Now, I was _trying_ to get the second part to Ripple Affect done first, but my month has been busier than usual. That being said, this will go down differently than Goretober. I may have more unfinished/shorter prompts, and on top of that I am finally scheduled to get my Wisdom teeth removed on the Nineteenth - (y’all will either get a pre-written chapter, no chapter, or a really, really wonky one XD.)
> 
> This is open to everyone - but, do not feel as though you have to participate or finish it all. I understand everyone is busy and has there own stuff going on. I just wanted a non-holiday related event that I could personally work on :3. 
> 
> And with that out of the way, I hope you all enjoy!!

_You are wandering through a thick snowfall, unsure of where you are; the world is a softly shrouded haze of fading light and glittering snowflakes._

_You find yourself at a door; a stout, oaken door. You knock, numb hands barely registering the thick wood._

_The door opens._

_A young woman, you can only assume, opens the door, looking you up and down, and then with a sigh, saying, [Come in.]_

_You enter._

_It’s warm in the living room, and you find yourself sat on a rug, before a crackling fire. She - you remember asking a name, you think, but it is hazy and beyond your grasp. You choose to call her the Dreamer - she hands you a hot mug. It’s a second-hand one, you’re pretty sure, with cracks that have been resealed in the graying white porcelain. But you thank her, and take a sip, enjoying one of your favourite warm beverages._

_She plops down beside you, leaning back against the couch. She sighs._

_[Do you hear the snow? Or, actually, the silence? The sound muffling away, far, far away, as more and more snow blankets it, until there is only the hush.]_

_She looks at you, quirking a smile. [Sorry, I’m a tad long-winded. As sure as the snow has let up, and it’s safe, you can go home. For now, how about some stories to pass the time?]_

_You sputter, almost choking. You give her a panicked look at being put on the spot, and she hastily amends, [I meant from me!]_

_Calming down, you shrug. There’s not much else to do - you doubt your phone is getting much reception._

_Satisfied, the Dreamer nods. Taking a moment to sort through her thoughts, she starts._


	2. Liquid Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Video Blogging RPF/Daniel Howell fandom/Phandom
> 
> Other: Not attatched to any specific AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this is supposed to be coherently confusing??? I dunno, just roll with it XD.
> 
> There probably won’t be a lot of violent or triggering ones for this prompt month, so I won’t give rating per chapter. I will put a warning in bold if I feel one is needed or applied.

His footsteps echoed, the sound muffled and swallowed by the silence. He walked along an undefined path, though he well knew that he would not - nor could he - leave such a path.

The world was a frosty, dark mist that swirled around him, gray with a spattering Of iridescent greens and purples and blues, getting darker and losing color the higher he craned his head until a thick, black sky formed over head. 

And it was like looking through blurry, watering eyes because the liquid stars trailed, too bright amidst the only black sky, their light smearing on the edges and melting into the nothing.

Dan breathed in, the frosty, still air burning his lungs.

He wasn’t sure how he got here, or where he was; nor why the ground was softly lit beneath him, or liquid stars hung above.

He breathed in frost, and the dark, and kept walking home.


	3. Hazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: The Secret Saturday’s
> 
> Other: More than likely part of my _Sacrifice_ universe, but it is not a required read nor will any specific mentions necessarily appear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m having a migraine but I dunno I thought of this but it mayn’t be as sharply written I guess? My brain feels like pudding.

The sky above is a hazy mess of blue and wispy streaks of what could be clouds, just a tad below being too bright to look at. 

It’s late spring, and the weather is warm; the air soft with warm breezes and gold sunlight. He lays on a grassy hill that slopes down gently, his hands at his sides and his black and white hair fanning out onto the blades of grass.

At each breath of wind that puffs past, he feels the tulips and black-eyed susans sway. He brushes his fingertips against the grass.

He is _here_ and he is relishing in just the feeling of _existing_. 

No responsibility; no who to save next, or being in constant danger, not even the teenage worries of his friends and their opinions or their safety.

Zak is seventeen and enjoying the late spring sun on a grassy hill, and just being _alive_.


	4. Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Warriors
> 
> Other: Takes place in _Power Of Three_ somewhere between when the Three find out that Squirrelflight is not their mother, but before they find out that Leafpool is. May diverge from Canon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love Jayfeather and snuggly kitties.
> 
> Short one because I worked today.

There’s a paw pressing into his ear, and his face in pressed into someone’s chest, their exhale pressing fur into his nose. He feels someone - he’s pretty sure it’s Hollyleaf, because it could only be Lionblaze’d gargantuan chest that he is pressed into - he feels Hollyleaf shift, he muzzle laying across his flank, and he feels her tail swish gently against his head.

Okay, so it was her hind paw pressing into his ear.

And Jayfeather would be irritated - Lion’s forepaw draws him closer, and the world rumbles as his brother exhales with a purr - but he has never been so content.

Having to sleep in the medicine den on a regular basis, he has never been so _warm_.

He pricks an ear; he could almost hear the snow falling. Softly building up and covering the world. He’s not fond of Leaf-bare, but he doesn’t hate it, either. Even if it just brings back the memory of cold wind, and a struggle through snow, as he follows Squirrelflight and whoever his mother is-

He feels Holly sigh against him, and Lion stretch out and knead gently. He doesn’t have to see to know that his brother tends to stretch in his sleep, or that his sister tends to mutter and twitch her left ear. He can hear it and feel it all around him, and as irritated as it can make him, he wouldn’t trade anything for this warmth.


	5. Cool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Undertale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really fuzzy from the last few days of migraine (and I just woke from a nap, lol.) But anyways, I’ve been rewatching Dan and Phil play Undertale and they’re back in Waterfall, which is my favourite area, so there’s that.
> 
> I write Frisk and Kris as boys and Chara as a girl.

Frisk stops in one tunnel, before the junction where it adjoins to another, and takes a moment to pause.

It’s pleasantly cool here, and somewhat damp, like the air before rainfall when clouds begin to swell but before they become tumultuous. It’s dark, but not too dark; mushrooms and other bioluminescent fungus glowing a brilliant blue, and casting etheral streaks of light and shadow along the walls.

The ground is soft, where his shoes sink squishily, and each step leaves moist dirt with damp imprints, sometimes with water popping into them. Frisk wonders if he gold eyes look different in this light.

It’s absolutely beautiful here. Snowdin was fun but far, far too cold for the child, even with his striped long-sleeve, and he wasn’t overly fond of hot weather, so this ‘Hotland’ didn’t sound too promising.

But here? It’s cool and dim, with starlight trapped in the plants, and gems like forgotten stars embedded in the ceiling, trailing hither and thither. It’s magical and pretty and breath-takingly _wonderful_.

So Frisk takes a minute, even if he knows he’ll have to outrun the fish lady again, because that minute is absolutely worth it.


	6. Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Video Blogging RPF/ Markiplier Community

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrugs* I was reading about Axolotls on Wikipedia and then got this idea. I don’t know how my brain works, okay?

He’s sitting on the edge of damp pavement, in front of an old tunnel that’s collapsed on one end. Dark water fills the cave, and the tiniest of stalagmites have formed on the roof, almost hidden in shadow.

Mark’s not sure how he got there, or what he’s doing there; he’s never been one to sit still for long, or pause in between. He’s a mover, a doer, and active force without stop.

And yet-

He finds himself sitting criss-cross on the remanents of broken asphalt, before a small cave on a late summer evening. Golden sunlight warms his back, where it happens to break through the trees behind him, and shines in minimal rays into the cool, quiet space. Some part of him, perhaps in childish anticipation, hopes and wonders that frogs will come out soon.

Maybe that’s why he stopped here. To hear the frogs sing?

Mark finds he’s not as concerned to be in a strange place with no recollection of arriving there. There’s a distant curiosity, but it’s out of reach. Instead he feels an inate sense of calm. There’s no worries or rush or _need_ to be moving.

He finds himself content to just sit and watch.

Now _that_ is odd.

~~_(Maybe he’s dreaming?)_~~ __

There’s the sound of water dripping, here and there. It echoes prettily in the little cave, like a tinkle of crystal. He hopes some frogs come out soon; he’d sure it’ll sound even nicer as they bellow and croak, the sound ringing and repeating ‘round and ‘round.

Yes, it is odd, and unusual, and strange; but Mark decided to let it be, and enjoy the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QOTP: Favourite animal? (If this feels too personal, feel free to skip!)
> 
> My Answer: Jaguars ( _Panthera Onca_. Let’s just say that I could go on for a few hours about them XD.


	7. Somber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Bendy and the Ink Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As is with any sort of Time Loop scenario, death and thoughts of death are treated in a manor that may or may not be triggering to some individuals. While it will probably only be mentions, please proceed with caution.

It’s in shaking hands, fighting to keep a grip on the worn, wooden handle, that he feels it.

It’s in the quiet, somber halls; ink dripping down battered studio walls, pooling below him and encasing his ankles as he makes his way forward.

It’s in each creature; the Searching, the Lost, the Disfigured parodies. It’s the wailing, haunted moans.

It’s even in the dust motes; those visible, elusive and the ones that glow like stardust falling from the ceiling.

_It’s every trail he leaves with_ _bleeding hands, again and again and again. Scores marked into the wood, dripping, glowing; and after echo of every failed attempt that he_

_just_

_can’t_

_get_

**_right_ ** _._

And even then, as he tries to do the undoable-

It’s just another stroke of ink on a stained panel; indescipherable, unrecognizable.

Too bad it can’t stay that way.

_”Okay, Joey. What did you want to show me?”_


	8. Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Spyro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I’m a huge Spyro fan. I’ll admit, I do enjoy _The Legend Of_ trilogy - _Eternal Night_ was my first PS2 game - but I also really like the old games (we had Year Of The Dragon and i bought Ripto’s Rage ages ago).
> 
> So while this is obviously not canon compliant with anything, this does lean towards Classic Spyro rather than Legend Spyro.

He huffed a breath through his nostrils, watching the white petals and stalk bend back, and forward lazily. Amethyst-indigo eyes watched on with interest.

It was a quiet day; Dragon Elders herding the younger for lessons, and sheep bleating contentedly in the background. Even Sparx was laying contendly on a lilypad in the sun, some ways away.

But Spyro, for all his energy and quick-wit, was content to lay on his belly and study a small, white-petaled flower, bobbing it back and forth with a warm breath.

It was that sort of day.


	9. Cyan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Video Blogging RPF/Phandom/Daniel Howell and AmazingPhil Communities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just realized that people still have Finals and projects and stuff because of school; I am _so_ sorry about that.
> 
> Anyways, PINOF 10 was hilarious and I have feels.
> 
> EDIT: This is a mess, as is anything I try to write with Phil’s POV kagakahzmajzba.

There was something about the colors.

The yellow-orange laughter, no less real in front of the camera, along with heavy gray exasperation or shrill fuschia shrieks; greenish-yellow trepedition to what comes next; even the dark, hickory-red of heavy dread at a potential jumpscare.

Yes, the Gaming Channel was a whole swath of colored feelings.

And even their own colors - those that cascades their channels - weren’t the same. To each person it was something different: the sunshine of AmazingPhil could also be fresh spring grass or summer sky; Daniel Howell could be stars surrounded by a void, the pale gray of pre-dawn, or even a timid red.

But to Phil - to Phil, he saw a multitude of colors.

Dan was the color of a blacklight, or the harvest moon - strong, but not offensively bright or imposing, yet no less prominent. He himself was something akin to a cloud strewn across and surrounded by blue sky - bright and impulsive and _there_.

But his favourite colors to feel were those in the late night hours; the sun is gone, but laughter is yellow as their faces turn cyan from the tv screen and they laugh themselves breathless at something or nothing, and everything is right because they are _there_ and alive and much, much more colorful than anything in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should have made breathless the prompt.


	10. Lapping Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Video Blogging RPF/Jacksepticeye Community, Subnautica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really debated what I wanted to do for this one, but since my day got away from me I’ll do the “easier” idea.
> 
> This follows with my “Jack in Subnautica” concept, but you don’t need to read the previous pieces to understand.

Jack bit back a groan as Henry (he had decided to name Lifepod Five), bobbed up and down, up and down on the writhing sea.

Rain pattered against the hull - the first sign of weather change he had encountered in _weeks_ \- and Jack bit back nausea.

It wasn’t as if the ocean was tumultuous either; no, the lapping waves were merely more audible as they slapped against the metal. It wasn’t really all that bad.

But the (probably) concussion he had from the initial wreck didn’t help matters - even the slight movement from the alien sea left him feeling greener than his hai- than Kermit with the flu.

Jack clutched his stomach, curled up on the floor of the lifepod. He really must be out of it if he thought his hair was _green_ for a second.

( _The weird dreams he had had since landing were still muddled with his memory, it seemed._ )

_(Were they dreams?)_

Jack knew it would be fine, eventually. He just had to hold out, eyes clenched, and jaw clamped shut. The storm would pass eventually.

Eventually.


	11. Dream(y)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Video Blogging RPF/CrankGamePlays Community

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling under the weather so short chapter/not well thought out.

It starts with a fall.

A trip, hand knocking into his companion - _Kathryn?_ \- who immediately dissolves into smoke, ashy dust swept by the wind and out of his reach.

He gets up, and the dull horizon is now low-flickering office lights, and he is seated at a desk, facing Mark.

When Mark moves to speak, he moves slow, a trail following him in a dreamy quality.

~~_It’s all a dream?_ ~~

~~~~But whatever he says, Ethan hasn’t been paying enough attention, because he’s being led out the door, into a dark forest with black, empty skies, though the trees are easy to see, and he finds Tyler hunched over a fire, his skin blue from cold but Ethan-

He feels nothing.

The fire crackles, and a light pops, glass shattering overhead. He’s at Mark’s, watching Amy and Chica playing, fading slowly until the room is empty once more, except for shattered glass at his feet.


	12. Muffled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Original Work/Confused Chicken series

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this prompt could be very dark, but don’t worry it won’t be XD.

They’re rolling around in the hay and he can’t help laughing aloud, even as she slaps a wing over his mouth, his laughter muffled. But he can’t see past the feathers that she’s quirking a smile, trying not to laugh too.

It’s been months since they left, and they’re almost to the East Coast. And while danger follows them with every step, here, in this moment, there is only them, hiding in a barn, and tussling under patches of cool shadow and warm sunlight from the ramshackle roof.

Jake debates turning into something that can slip out - maybe a chaffinch or something - but she’s rolling off of him and dissolving her wings.

Not that he’s done playing, because he tackles Zero from behind and she gives an undignified screech, falling forward and shouting choice words that are muffled from the hay.

And Jake?

He just laughs and enjoys the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah they tend to hide in barely used barns a lot.


	13. Drowsy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \\_(._.)_/ I’ve only written for this fandom like, twice, and I thought Iida would be both interesting and difficult for this prompt. I dunno.
> 
> Also I’m horrible at remembering what are the first and what are the last names, since people in Japan tend to refer to one another by last name.

It was rare that Iida Tenya ever deviated from his schedule.

His life was comprised of set rules; every thing must be in order, events lead to other events, and every action had a consequence. And it’s not that deviating from his routine necessarily caused him anxiety (he’s pretty sure, at least), just that it was more comfortable to fall back into his own, organized flow.

The only person who came close to rivaling him was Bakugo Katsuki, his explosive classmate, who went to bed at a _very_ specific time each and every night.

Except for tonight apparently, because it would seem that he had been harassed into the same circumstances as Iida himself.

Midoriya sat on one side of him, and Uraraka on the other; Bakugo was currently surrounded by the self-proclaimed “Bakusquad”, where he was cursing quite fervently at Kirishima and Ashido. Iida bit back a heated reprimandation - he had learned by now that Bakugo neither cared, nor listened.

And despite the rowdiness of the others (Todoroki was apparently sending Mineta a death glare of the chilliest proportions), Iida found himself content, set between two close friends and watching the movie on screen.

It was warm, Iida realized, cozied up next to the two smaller students, and he felt himself melt out of his usual ~~stiffness~~ disciplined posture. He sighed quietly, eyes fluttering, and feeling quite drowsy. Midoriya murmured facts about quirks in the movie, and Iida quirked a sleepy smile while Uraraka smothered a giggle.

It was definitely past his usual bed time, but that was okay. For today, and . . . maybe once in a while, it was okay.


	14. Cozy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Redwall
> 
> Other: OCs/non-canon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never do write my two Redwall boyos, so I guess here’s a thing for them.
> 
> I use a good sprinkle of terminology and turn of phrase from the series.

Alaerr wasn’t used to company.

The young otter had spent most of his time alone, growing and teaching himself; he learned to heed other’s advice, but tended to trust his own judgment more often than not. He had never known his parents, and also therefore grew up with no siblings.

He had never questioned it in all sixteen of his seasons, nor thought much about it.

But now he did.

He and Barrul (everyone always told him to never trust Vermin, but here he was, best friends with a stoat who, while could be mischievous, was not one bit wicked) ended up in some elder watervole’s home. Her eyesight, made poor due to age, had her assuming they were both _squirrels_ for some reason.

But he wouldn’t complain; it was autumntide, turning towards winter, with an onslaught of rain lashing down outside. Being travelers with nary a tent, much less a home, they were willing to take the kindness of an elderly neighbor. Alaerr quickly jumped to help tidy up a few things, and Barrul jovially followed suit. 

Overall, he expected the elderly watervole mostly appreciated the company.

They slept on mats before a hearth, the warm glow of the fire crackling low while the watervole snores on. Alaerr and Barrul found themselves tangled up together like young otter pups: tail over about under paw next to whiskers. The woodpigeon feathers on Barrul’s kilt tickled Alaerr’s footpaws whenever he shifted, but all in all, he found he could sum it up into one word.

Cozy.


	15. Thunderstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Over The Garden Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s always that debate about which fandom to do.
> 
> Deciding to do OTGW, since there’s that one hour ambient thing on YouTube that’s really pretty sounding with piano.

“ _Amidst the downpour’n. . ._

downpoured?

downpour? No, that’s not it either. . .”

Wirt sighs.

Greg shifts next to him, muttering sleepily, and the frog (Timothy Heins now?) croaks along with the movement. Wirt makes sure that his cloak is still placed on them, and then he glares out at the ceaseless rain.

Thunder fumbles in retribution.

“Wirt?” Beatrice mutters from a corner in the rocks. “You still awake?”

He doesn’t bother to turn around. “Yeah? What else is there to do? The rain isn’t ending any time soon, and I’d rather not wake up to Greg trotting off into the rain.” He gestures wildly with on arm.

Wirt hears a flutter, and feels her settle on his shoulder. “Yeah,” she says softly.

There’s a sudden flash, washing out their surroundings in brilliant white, and then the tell-tale follow of crackling thunder. They watch as leaves now bend under the onslaught of heavy raindrops, and hear the thick, wet thud as they pelt the ground. It smells crisp, like frost, dirt, and plants.

It hadn’t really rained much in the Unknown when they first entered. Just mist, and the mild drizzle. But now a thunderstorm has rolled in, and they sought shelter where they could: in a small cavern between stones. The slab hanging over them kept them dry enough, though they had nothing with which to light a fire.

And despite being soaked, they weren’t too cold. The Unknown held this constant, barely permeable clamminess, that could be considered _cool_ but not _cold_.

Beatrice shuffled her wings a few times, but had yet to speak, and Wirt found no words to offer up. He didn’t know their bluebird companion too well, after all.

So they sat, in silence, watching the world through a curtain of rain, and counting as the world lit up around them.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wasn’t sure whether to put this or “counting between flashes”.


	16. Mist/Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Non-specified/Original Work
> 
> Other: Second-person POV ambiguous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrugs* I dunno I thought I’d dabble a bit.
> 
> Snow isn’t common for me - we have to drive to see it. So I can’t really say what it’s like to live in it, so this is warped with my experience and my expectation of what it’s like (which is. . .quite a bit of my stuff, actually XD.)

Quiet.

_Hush_.

But not silent.

In the distance, a crunch as a heavy pile falls to the floor, branch bending from the disturbance. Smaller flakes flutter and drift, landing and adding further to muffling what little sound there is.

_Sccchhffft._

A drift slides to the side.

Yes, it’s quiet, but not silent.

Your arms squeeze tighter around yourself as you gaze out into the woods. Pines, somehow both stark and blending into the frosted world around you.

“ _Hff_.” Mist escapes, drifting out and up, dissipating lazily.

You take a deep breath, of frost and forest. Of the brisk, hushed world.

You breathe out again.


	17. Soft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Bendy And The Ink Machine
> 
> Other: Somewhat headcanon-y on designs I guess???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debilitated so much over what to do for today, so here’s something I guess.

Henry sighed.

Another day in the safe house. Another day of debilitating over whether to leave or not.

But in all honesty, Henry’s ribs still hadn’t fully recovered from the fall. Actually, it was surprising he had recovered as much as he had - he wasn’t quite that young, after all. 

And. . .it wasn’t too bad, staying with Boris.

_~~Wally?~~ _

~~~~In fact, it was downright enjoyable. Boris had beaten him at who knows how many rounds of cards (Henry had his own share of wins), and they passed the time away with games and rest. They still had a good stock of Bacon Soup left, though Henry smiled wryly at the thought of another bowl.

He could almost forget the inky halls leaking with darkness.

Almost.

He knew they would have to leave soon. He really did, but honestly. . .

Henry glanced over at Boris, whose fluffy chest puffed out as won yet another game. His eyes traced the soft brushstrokes that he had put down on paper so long ago.

. . .he found that he couldn’t. Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to do QOTP randomly throughout since this is a month long event.
> 
> QOTP: What movies do you feel are really under-appreciated/Unknown?
> 
> My A: Well, _Balto_ and _Master Of Disguise_ which are my favourite movies, but also _An American Tale_ and _Aristocats_.


	18. Blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Video Blogging RPF/Markiplier Community, Jacksepticeye Community, Phandom
> 
> Other: AlienRoommates!AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrug* I thought hey, why not. Y’all need some fluff XD.
> 
> Ends a little odd, sorry about that; I kinda just slapped this together.

It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Mark who came up with the idea.

Snow fell in droves outside, and the American couldn’t help but remark, “Damn, this is too much even for me.”

“Didn’t you grow up in Cinnamoncity? It’s snows there, right?” Phil asked, brow furrowed.

“Cincinnati, and yeah; but not _this_ bad.”

Dan had simply shrugged; he was next to Mark, leaning on the table to look out the window. “Not much we can do but turn on the heat.”

And that they did; while England was horrible when it came to actually having air conditioning, it had _great_ heating systems.

But, also unfortunately, they lived in an apartment complex which meant that all the residents decided to crank up the heat.

Which resulted in a power failure.

It was winter.

No one was happy about it.

“ _What the hell?!”_

_“Effing hell?”_

_“Shi-“_

_“Uh, guys-“_

They managed to get some candles set up (Mark raises a brow at the solid black one Dan brings out; Dan shrugs, simply saying, “Gift.” It’s not hard to guess who got it for him.) It’s nice to see the splay of candles, all portraying their different personalities and preferences.

Eventually, inevitably, it grows colder, and they find themselves throwing on multiple layers. They convene to the living room in hopes of staying warm.

“Man, not even any tv,” Phil mutters.

“And my phones at fourth-six percent,” Dan adds with a dreary sigh.

“It’s too dark to read.” This from Mark.

“Or play board games,” Phil pipes up again.

Jack gets up. “Well, least we c’n do is ‘ave some coffee or cocoa or something. What do you guys wahnt?”

They each pipe up with their own choices and a thanks.

By time they’re all settled with their hot drink of choice, Mark suddenly sputters on his tea. “Guys, I just had the _best_ idea.”

* * *

It ends up being a brilliant idea indeed.

A canopy of deep red stretches above them, where fabric stretches from one chair to the next; pillows stacked inside and outside their fortress, that extends from chairs to the table in the dining room. Mark laughs as Dan tries to wiggle in without tangling his limbs in the blankets. Phil stifles a giggle next to him.

“How the hell did you fit inside this?”

“I’m not freakishly tall; what’s your excuse?” he turns to Phil.

“Magic,” he states simply.

Jack snorts from outside. 

“Well ‘urry it up will you? I’d rather be inside then out.”

Once Dan managed to get in _without_ dragging down the blankets set up around them, Jack squirrels himself into their blanket fort, whistling. 

“Pretty impressive, right?” Mark grins smugly.

“I guess there’s more in yer head than hot air after all.”

“Hey!”

“At least it’s warm,” Dan comments, sitting next to Phil. He has one leg drawn up and the other out, while Phil has both pulled up. The blankets brush the tops of all their heads, except Mark, who is under the table.

“Mmhmm. Cozy,” Phil says, almost drowsily.

Suddenly, the building hums to life, and the power comes back on.

They all look up as the light comes back on, and then to one another.

“Bring the laptop in?” Jack asks.

“Bring the laptop in,” the other three chorus.

“After all,” Dan adds, “no point in wasting a perfectly good blanket fort.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fort was going to be in the living room, but I feel like a couch would be too low to connect a fort in, so I decided on the dining room since a table would be roomier.


	19. Snowflakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Unspecified/Original Work/Poetry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrugs* ????
> 
> (Almost did Balto for this prompt.)
> 
> I want to prewrite tommarrow’s chapter, so I figured I’d do a poem for this one. Kinda short, sorry about that ,:D.

Falling,

falling,

Swept with the wind

Until fluttering further,

in an updraft, spins;

Feather-soft, gentle down

Silently, smothering, muffling sound.

Icy and delicate,

gentle flight on a breeze

Branches become weighed down-

Snowflakes are laden on the trees.


	20. Frosted Glass (drawing on)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Video Blogging RPF/Phandom
> 
> Other: Turbulants!AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m hoping to get this done tonight and post either at midnight my time, or tommarrow.
> 
> I think diners are more of an “American thing”, so I’m BS-ing that an American moved to England and opened it up to serve “quaint, American food.” 
> 
> I dunno I liked the aesthetic of a diner on the rain okay XD.

It was a constant, unending downpour. The pittering kind with the same rhythm looped over, and over.

Dan watched as his breath fogged the glass up (the glass was already pretty frosty from the cold), obscuring his reflection.

“Hey, I got them both black. They said sugar an cream was next to the ketchup?” 

Dan looked up as Phil put a mug in front of him, and then slid into his own seat. His friend wrapped his fingers around the mug and blew at the steam.

They were taking a break from their patrol - they had slid into an alley to shed their masks, and decided to stop into the nearest place with food service. Which happened to be a quaint little American-styled diner.

And, Dan had to admit, it was nice; the rain pattering against the wide glass of the booth seat they had chosen; the street lamps cast in a halo, light barely reaching the softly-lit diner.

Plus, the patron had been welcoming, even as they walked in, rain coats slick and hair hanging limp, dripping rainwater.

“Do you think they have any lactose free cream?” Phil asked, already adding a few packets of sugar to his coffee.

Dan snorted. “Really? I doubt the creamer has any actual dairy in it. Probably just chemicals and shizz.”

Phil picked up one of the little cup-packets and glanced at it questioningly, turning it this way and that. “True.”

He ended up dumping it in, anyways.

Dan wrapped one hand around the still-hot mug; his other hand was reaching towards the window, fingers lingering on the cold glass.

He began tracing a pattern, no real thought in mind; just feeling the frosty pane and watching the trails his fingers left behind.

Phil, sipping his coffee and giving a satisfied hum, watched Dan weave patterns back and forth. His lips twitched into a smile.

“Try drawing us.”

Dan, surprised, laughed. “What?”

“Well, not _us_ , but, y’know, us.”

“Phil, you’re not making any sense.” He didn’t bother to hold back a smile.

His friend whines. “ _Daaaaaan_.”

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, trails starting to actually form a picture. It wasn’t good at all, by far - Dan was nowhere near an artist - but it wasn’t all that bad either.

He drew Amazing Echo first, long mane of hair sweeping his features, and Susan next to him, a tad too big. He gave him a smiley face.

He drew himself next, with a grumpy frown face, hood pulled up so he didn’t have to try to draw his curly hair.

“Aww, c’mon; at least draw your wings.” Dan glanced over and seeing Phil’s pout, sighed and complied.

They were too big, like Susan had turned out, stretched fully and all encompassing.

Dan sat back to admire his handiwork, lit up with the street lights outside. It looked like it was drawn by a five-year-old, but not _badly_ by a five-year-old.

Phil seemed pleased, anyways, smiling as he took a sip of his coffee. Dan pretended not to see as he slipped his phone out to take a picture of it, then Dan, then himself.

After all, why call out and spoil a good moment?


	21. Mug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Video Blogging RPF/Jacksepticeye Community

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the wisdom teeth removal went well. Still recovering, so writing style may or may not decline. We’ll see I guess.
> 
> EDIT: Haven’t written the Egos in awhile I guess.

Marvin startled as weight dipped into the couch next to him. A mug was thrust in from of his face with a simple, “here.”

He took it with a side glance at Jackieboy Man; the hero was slumped into the couch, giving a quiet sigh after sipping from his own mug.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” He said quietly, indicating towards the window. “Quiet.”

Marvin followed his brother’s gaze, to the snow; it wasn’t quiet falling, not really. It was more like feathers, drifting down.

Marv took a sip from his drink - hot cocoa made with extra cream and dark chocolate. His mask bumped against it, but this wasn’t unusual. In fact, he kept the mug close to his lips, the steam wafting up through his mask and warming his face.

It had been a few minutes since Jackie had spoken, but Marv felt comfortable to answer with a soft, “Yeah, it is.”


	22. Another World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Video Blogging RPF/Phandom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My gums itch.
> 
> It’s the Winter Solstice, the Shortest Day of the year. 
> 
> I’m hungry.
> 
> That’s all there is to say.

It’s not until he has walked out of a tunnel, ethereally lit, that he realizes.

As earthen eyes focus, finally, _finally_ catching on the pillars of clouds made of shimmering stardust, winding their way through pale sky of pink to purple to gray-

Somehow there’s a dusty hue on everything, but he can’t tell if it’s soft gold or pale rose.

And he glanced down as his sneakers, worn out, fall in step on a platform of almost clear substance; a glass road faintly reflecting himself back as he looks at it.

He realizes, as he registers the environment around him, that he’s in another world.

Maybe he’s asleep- or maybe, maybe he stumbled on a step and fell through reality. But his usual crisis-based thoughts are not acting up, and he feels calm. Peaceful even.

He’s not worried.

And that’s probably the strangest thing.

He does have a twinge of, _where’s_ _Phil_? But it’s faint, and fades almost immediately. After all, he’s fine, so why wouldn’t his best friend be?

(He also wonders, vaguely, if he finally died and this is the after life. But his heart is beating and his eyes water when he doesn’t blink soon enough. Proof enough that he’s still alive.)

He takes a slow, deep breath. The air is cool, crisp, and very faintly damp (probably from the clouds), but Dan wouldn’t say it’s warm or cold.

It’s strange but nice in a way.

But he knows he really does need to get back home; find Phil before he worries or before Dan’s worry returns.

So he walks along the glass road, each step echoing faintly, as star-dust twinkles in the clouds.

He’s going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dan practically _is_ an aethstetic, hence why I keep writing him in these kinds.


	23. Miasma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Video Blogging RPF/Markiplier Community, Jacksepticeye Community, Phandom
> 
> Other: AlienRoommates!AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in my defense, at the time i added Miasma to the list I thought it meant mishmash of colors or something.
> 
> It does not mean what I thought it meant.
> 
> But I will make this work. Watch me.

“Oh no oh no oh no. . .”

“Ah effing _told_ you! But did ye listen? No! Instead, ye insisted on-“

Mark tunes him out, rushing to get the pan under water while Jack opened the windows, fanning the smoke before the alarm went off. The miasma coming from the burnt carmal and the apples was enough to knock a man out.

For once, though, Jack was right; it would seem that he actually paid more attention than _Mark_ when their two British roommates baked, despite being single-handedly responsible for more than three-quarters of their kitchen accidents.

So, really, in all honesty it was Mark’s fault this time.

The black smoke finally faded to gray, and then just wisps of acrid steam. Jack continued ranting, and Mark just sighed.

He might be a good cook, but next time he was leaving the baking to Dan and Phil.


	24. Chimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Original Work/Confused Chicken Series

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I love wind chimes and honestly these kiddos would too.
> 
> *I got motivation okay? And it wouldn’t stop.

It was autumn, their first autumn since they left, and they were. . .somewhere east?

Had to have been; because it was colder, and damper than the west coast, but the colors were much more vibrant. It was the color of hot apple spiced cider, and cinnamon candies, and oranges; the scent of clove and cinnamon on the wind, amongst citrus and coffee. The forest they walked through was actually _carpeted_ with leaves, each and every step punctuated with a distinct, crisp _crrnch krinch crrnch krrinch crrnch. . ._

Jake even found himself refraining from turning into a cardinal and hopping from branch to branch, preferring stomping in the leaves. Zero breathed in happily.

They were in the middle of the woods, _miles_ from home. In the start of autumn. Homeless.

But neither of them were worried or afraid; instead, they felt relaxed and safe. Absolutely comfortable in one another’s presence.

Suddenly, a breeze swept by.

They halted.

It was a sound, faintly tinkling, but also a hollow, wooden _thwock_. Both sounds, normally discordant with one another, clashing interestingly along with the sharp whistle of the wind.

It was an odd mish-mash of sound.

Two sets of wide eyes, one impossibly yellow-green, and the other dark gray, gazed up to see amongst the thin branches framed by gray sky.

Zero grabbed Jake’s sleeve with her left hand, pointing excitedly with her right, voice a happy chirp.

“There!”

And Jake, when following her line of sight, found it.

Two sets of wind chimes - delicate, thin, metal tubes and thick, hollow bamboo shafts - tangled together in the branches little more than eleven feet up. With each shudder from the wind, they sang.

“I wonder who put wind chimes, all the way out here?” Zero muttered, still drawn-in by them.

“I dunno,” Jake replied. “They sure do sound pretty.”

They stood there. Two. Three. Seven more minutes. And then a little longer.

They stood, and watched, and listened, perking up each time a breeze passed them.

It was with great reluctance that they left. But, they kept in mind those two odd wind chimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know what this is.
> 
> Me: “Oh! I should write longer stuff! But I need motivation!”
> 
> Mind: “Hey. Non-sensical Drabble at midnight. Go.”
> 
> Me: “Eh. . .what?”
> 
> Mind: “Did I stutter?”


	25. Hollow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Little Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I was thinking that I wanted to write for this again XD.
> 
> I haven’t played the game or watched any footage in awhile, so forgive me if it’s a little off. In that case, there will still be **spoilers.**
> 
> Now, I know the title of this event is nice, but atmosphere can be dark as well as light.
> 
> Heads up for darker themes.

Little feet splashed through puddles as Six ran.

It wasn’t a frantic flight, but there was still drive behind it; the metal hull warped into the shadows left behind Six, as the sound of leeches and dripping squelched further and further away.

It wasn’t hard to outrun them, really.

Six kept the lighter closed for the moment; there was no point in it if the path was known. The light did little more than cast away the dark. It did not banish the monsters.

And this world was filled with monsters.

Six’s stomach clenched.

Many monsters, much larger than the small child.

_Could Six be considered a child?_

The drear halls bent and twist; a grate came up and, clambering through like the rats, Six continued on through the darkness.

A juncture came up, and the child stopped. Turned on the lighter for the illusion of warmth.

In the flickering light it cast, barely any wisps of Six’s face could be seen.

_Was Six even human?_

Six paused, rested. Listened. The maw groaned all around, creaking and swaying; growling and crying aloud. The ship was alive in every which way. But also dead in every other way.

Hungry, though full.

Hollow, though filled.

But it was never, ever still while moving. 

Every creature fed or was food; flesh ripped and consumed, running while gorging on the barely-alive and the half-dead. Every creature on this accursed mountain of the sea was living and dying and suffering without ever truly being alive.

The Guests were ignorant that even they were a feast, for the Lady.

Six grimaced in the dark. Teeth biting sharply, lip bleeding.

Even Six was not an outlier from this; hollow inside just like the rest.

With a snap the lighter closed. The child stood up in the dark.

Six was hungry.


	26. Elusive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Video Blogging RPF/CrankGamePlays Community and Markiplier Community
> 
> Other: BATIM/YouTuber AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally could not think of _anything_ for today. So I thought I’d Drabble with this a bit. I honestly don’t watch Ethan as much as I should, so I’m sorry if he’s out of character. Then again, this is an AU.
> 
> My sis and I pooled together and bought a Switch. Turns out I’m mildly decent at Mario Kart.

Ethan panted, taking a chance to peak out from the open door way. His hair, damp from sweat and grease, stuck to his forehead, and he had to brush the barest hint that fell in front of his eyes.

This was _so_ effed up.

Seeing nothing in the hall except shadows and ink, he leaned his back against the wall and slid down, axe resting loosely in his grasp.

This was _so effing **effed up**._

He grabbed at his hair, frustrated and scared. He was breathing harshly, the last few days - days! It had been mother effing days! - finally taking their toll. 

“ _Grrrrarrrrh!!! Dammit Mark! What the hell did you even want?!?!_ ”

Nothing answered him, not even an elusive wisp as to ‘ _why’._

Back in the day, no one knew what Fischbach was thinking, except _maybe_ Tyler. Stoic, composed Tyler, who would simply utter ‘no’ at the beginnings of a gleeful smile. He knew where to draw the line.

If Mark was willing to listen.

But now. . .

There was something _seriously_ wrong about all of this.

Beyond messed up.

Ethan had never known Mark as a vengeful person. Even when he had been fired during their disagreement, he had taken it as a logical move on Mark’s part. Employee doesn’t agree with the big boss, and won’t move? The studio couldn’t handle that sort of discordance. _Someone_ had to go.

Ethan accepted that it had to be him.

Even if, in the end, he had left his part in Fischbach’s ownership. The cartoon was both of their achievement; they had contributed equally. Ethan couldn’t fault him for continuing on.

But now. . .

Something about all of this struck as vindictive.

And Ethan wondered if maybe he had hurt Mark more than he had officially thought.


	27. Wisps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Video Blogging RPF/Phandom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess it’s Phil’s turn for something dreamy yet somewhat grounded in reality XD. (Nah, scratch that. It’s just a simple content Drabble instead.)

It’s in the chilly winter wind, whipping through London after the rain.

Lamps reflect like distorted stars in the puddles, and traffic hums quietly. The day is gray, typical for England, but dark with thick clouds.

Phil snuggles into his raincoat. With a puff of air, his breath wisps out into the frigid sky.

He does it again, watching it trail and twist away. Like a dragon breathing out smoke.

He giggles. 

He doesn’t stop, not really. But he does pause and turn his head at Dan’s comment of, “Really? I leave you for like five seconds and you’re already attracting weird looks from people.”

Phil pouts; he knows that Dan’s joking, and thus plays the game. “You were gone for like, seventeen hours.”

“Jeezus Christ, Phil.” Dan looks like he wants to pinch the bridge of his nose, but his hands are full. “I know the line in Starbucks was long, but it wasn’t _that_ long,” he snorts.

Before Phil can retort, Dan shoves one of the coffees at him. “Here’s your drink, pleb.”

Phil’s face lights up and he takes it, downing a bit despite how hot it is.

“You got coffee to, you know.”

“Oh shut it.”


	28. Fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Video Blogging RPF/Markiplier Community

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Be careful of where you wander. . .]

Brown eyes glanced around in confusion. Nothing met him but a sea of white. The air, clammy and somewhat chilled, seemed to swirl as he raised a hand in front of his face. 

Fog.

Thick, roiling fog twisting around him. His limbs felt heavy in the chill, and his confusion blossomed into unease.

. . .what was Mark _doing_ here?

He remembered- a video? Yeah, he had recorded a video, and then - then. . .pasta of some sort? Laughing? He had . . .oh yeah, he went out to dinner with Amy and Ethan. Tyler couldn’t make it.

The evening came back in snatches, barely being snagged in his grasp. The final thing he could recall was taking Chica for her evening walk. And then. . .

blank.

It’s all just. . .blank.

Mark looks around, but couldn’t discern anything through the fog. It was like a reflection of the blankness in his memories.

Suddenly his breath hitches.

_‘Chica!’_

His cry was swallowed up by the white void, warped and distorted in a vague echo. 

He took a step forward-

~~Why was it such a struggle-?~~

\- and fell, giving an ‘ _oof_ ’ as he landed face first, the wind knocked out of his chest.

He took a minute to catch his breath.

When he opened his eyes, they took a minute to focus. He saw a diluted blade of grass. Quite a few blades of grass. Letting his eyes trail further, he saw they were in rough patches, sometimes clumped thickly together, but otherwise there was dirt and dust visible on the ground.

And everything was diluted, washed out shades.

Fear had begun to settle in Mark’s chest, heavy and cold as ice.

He got up, best as he could. The disturbed fog swirled around him.

_Okay, I’m don’t know where Chica went, I’m lost, and_ , he patted his pockets, _I don’t have my cell phone. No reason to panic. I’ll just. . .calm down. Figure it out._

He finally took a shaky step forward. But the shackles of unwarranted gravity that caused his earlier fall stumbled him once more. Though he did stay upright. 

Mark swallowed. Took another laborious step forward.

He moved, little as it was.

Nothing around him changed. Not the embracing silence or chilled void. Even the earth beneath him was hard to see, thick as the fog was around his feet.

He clenched his fists.

Mark wasn’t about to give up.

With a determined grit of his teeth, he strongly willed himself forward.

There was strain. . .

. . .and then slack, that sent him rolling forward with a sharp cry. He held out his hands to slow his fall. They hit the ground, and then the ground gave way like thick paper, and he hit asphalt instead. He felt his palms rip open and burn hot, sliding against the ground as they bled; his whole body pitched forward as the second ground disappeared, and he fell forward into the dark, though he still inhaled the thick, silky fog.

A pair of hands pulled him down into the dark, insistingly faster than gravity would allow.

“ **Sing a song of six pence,**

**pocket full of rye,**

**the king has now fallen**

**that’s the roll of the die;**

**though shaken in the morning**

**he will have to sing:**

**‘Now was that a real event?**

**or a forgotten dream?’ ”**

Mark bolted upright in bed, gasping and wheezing in the dark. He clutched his chest, trying to breathe in the clean, light air. He was drenched in sweat. 

Amy stirred beside him but didn’t wake. He eventually felt Chica nose his other hand that hung off the bed.

When Mark has finally eased his breathing, his eyes swept cautiously around the room. But nothing stood out. No malicious entity. No fog.

He chuckled weakly. “Too many horror games, you wuss.”

But when he removed his hand from his shirt, he winced at how raw it felt. He glanced down at his shirt.

Dark splotches stood out against the white fabric in the dark. Right where his hand had been gripping.

~~**_. . .”or a forgotten dream?’”_ ** ~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrug* different direction than intended but okay.
> 
> Sing A Song Of Six Pence is my favourite older poem/nursery rhyme song thing.


	29. Rainstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Redwall
> 
> Other: OCs/The North

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of my Redwall OCs I guess *shrug*
> 
> It’s been a busy day so I don’t have much for this one, apologies.

Alearr peaked out into Mossflower woods, whiskers becoming drenched and heavy.

He leaned back in with a sigh. Next to Barrul, he was scrunched against the rough bark. The stoat shuffled, grunting, “Saerrie, frein’.”

“ ‘S no problem, Barrul,” Alaerr replied, “not much we could do in this rainstorm anyhow.”

“ ‘Lest we wan’ tae git soaked good, eh?”

Alaerr blew rainwater off his nose. “True.”

Luckily, the tree hollow they found was at an angle that the rain didn’t pool down into it. When they had been traveling and the storm hit, Barrul had spotted it at the base of a tree, and they both quickly weaseled down into it.

But he and his Highland friend were by no means small beasts, so it was somewhat of a tight squeeze.

Alaerr let his sandy-yellow eyes travel back to the entrance; the woods were dark with the heavy curtain of rain streaming down, constant and unending. A continuos pitter-patter. Lighter than a thunderstorm but much, much heavier than a simple shower.

Luckily it wasn’t too cold - Alaerr remembered winters by the sea, and Barrul having grown up in the North knew the treachery of frigid snow. Rather, it was cool. Gentle.

“Bes’ git some sleep laddie,” Barrul drawled, hunkering down and yawning. “We’re ‘ere fer th’ lahng haul.”

“You’re right there,” Alaerr murmured back sleepily. He settled down as best as he could, and finally shut his eyes, letting the rainstorm lull him to sleep.


	30. Early Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Original Work/Confused Chicken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with Zero and Jake. Good kiddos.
> 
> I’ve been in a barn like, once, so I don’t know all the terms for the parts, nor the complete structure of one. So this is mostly made up of an imaginary barn.

“C’mon!” His voice echoed, turning faint and slightly distorted in the shadowed barn. He stood up higher in the loft, hands tightly grasping a beam, and looking down.

Zero grit her teeth, jumping and gripping the ladder again. It’s bottom half was gone, broken. She finally latched onto it properly and hauled herself up.

Some dust and old hay fell as she shifted.

She glared when Jake laughed. “Ha-ha, _jerk_. Why couldn’t we just shift to get up there?”

Zero heard him scrabble higher. Why was this barn so big? “Your Darkbird form wouldn’t be able to maneuver well enough to get up here, first off; secondly, the excercise will be good practice!”

Her eyes jumped, following the handholds Jake had used, the paths he had taken. It took her a whole other eight minutes to get where Jake was patiently waiting. She stepped carefully, and sighed when she found it was steady underfoot.

“See?” Jake smiles at her - not mockingly, but more coaxing. “Not that bad.”

Zero huffed. “Sure. Whatever you say, monkey.”

He stuck out his tongue, eyes twinkling playfully in the fading night.

“Now come on!” He grasped her hand gently, tugging her forward; the wide platform led to the front of the barn, where there was an opening in the wall. They sat, feet hanging off the edge.

There was no fear of heights when they could fly, after all.

The sky was shifting away; dark navy sands turning gray, as each twinkling star went out. The land that lay out before them slowly came to color, a dirt road on rolling hills, leading to bushy-leaved trees. A fence, one for the abandoned farm they were hiding on, rolled out alongside its companion, the dirt road.

They both perked up as the sky started to blush rosy, pale pink, with a soft yellow. In the early morning everything was muted and hushed, gentle and soft. It was pretty, in a simple way.

They leaned against one another, content in the early world, when birds began to first wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha ‘cause they technically birds so they’re early morning people.


	31. The Golden Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fandom: Delta Rune
> 
> Other: Contains spoilers for the end of Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I’m not up to writing this one lol but I think it’s because my mind is racing with too many ideas. But I’ve been meaning to write for Deltarune. Unfortunately Ralsei won’t fit into this one umu.

“Hey, Kris?” Said teen tilts his head up, glancing through long, shaggy hair. Susie, towering beside him grins toothily. “Let’s go back tommarrow, okay?”

He knows that it is unlikely that they can really leave the Darkners behind so easily - and not just because of the strange, omninous calls he got from the staticky stranger. But he doesn’t tell her that, he merely tilts his head in acquisition of her statement.

Susie’s grin only splits larger. She clamps a clawed hand down on his head and ruffles it, as he ducks like an annoyed cat. “For a quiet kid you’re not so bad!”

They walk the empty halls, where orange light pours through, making it warm. Susie outpaces him easily enough, but he doesn’t rush to catch up. By time he makes it to the one wide open School door, she is gone, and he is left to lounge in the doorway. 

Kris peers out past his bangs, at the world shining bronze before him. It is autumn and the Golden hour is magnificent and warm. He closes his eyes, letting the liquid warmth settle around him.

He knows that soon, his mom will call, frantic and worried. That tommarrow will come, and he and Susie, Lightners, Heroes, will face whatever comes next. But for now, he lets the melting afternoon wrap around him and takes a moment to just _be_.


	32. Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time for you to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^u^

_There is quiet, after the last, soft word is spoken. After the last characters fade away. The mug has long since sat empty beside you._

_The Dreamer opens her eyes. [Do you remember what I told you a month ago? About the snow?]_

_You know you haven’t been here a month, so you’re a tad startled by the wording. But, recalling what she had commented, you hesitantly nod._

_She seems satisfied._

_[If you listen, the hush is gone. It’s just. . .quiet.]_

_And, you find it is. Surely night has fallen by now, but it would seem that the snow had stopped its descent._

_[You know the way home in clear weather?] She asks suddenly. You nod._

_[Good,] she says, standing, [it’s time you went home.]_

_You’re suddenly in front of the door, which is opened, and the frosty chill slowly creeps up to meet you. The sky is a clear, deep blue, and the moon shines nearly full._

_As you take a step forward, and then more, you hear The Dreamer call out for a final time:_

_[Remember, that dreams aren’t always what they seem.]_

_You whisk around but the house is gone, only to be replaced by a normal tree, laden with snow._

_You stand, for a time, quietly thinking._

_Then, without a word, you turn to go home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Isn’t it time you did, reader?_


End file.
